


Rising

by dhyanshiva



Series: Phoenix [3]
Category: Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23215180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dhyanshiva/pseuds/dhyanshiva
Summary: Where a spirit is re ignited and old debts settled. The conclusion to "Phoenix"
Relationships: Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi
Series: Phoenix [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1669090
Comments: 16
Kudos: 32





	1. Give Me Some Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to "Shadows".
> 
> Today is Bepannaah's 2nd Birthday. It's a given that I integrate and weave into this piece the experiences of one of my favourite characters of all time. Do let me know if you figure out what it is!
> 
> I listened to "Give Me Some Sunshine", "Ek Tukda Dhoop" and "To Die For" while writing this piece :)

Aman and Kartik spent the rest of the night sitting in front of river Ganga, drawing comfort from one another and the gentle sound of the water flowing past. There wasn’t a soul in sight and they sat entwined together, watching the sun as it rose, basking in its warmth. Despite this, a slight chill never left from their bodies and Kartik tried to ignore a sense of foreboding building at the pit of his stomach. Tightening his arm around Aman’s shoulders, he tried not to focus on the battles that awaited them on their return. His body ached anew but the pain that had held a vice grip around his heart had eased tremendously. Aman too, seemed more optimistic, as if a burden had been lifted off his shoulders. Yet, the unspoken question remained between them – what if?

As the world around them finally began to come back to life, the men got to their feet. This was it. It was time to seize the day and not let go. Aman turned to leave, but a light hold on his wrist stopped him. Turning around, he looked up to see Kartik looking at him beseechingly. For what, he wasn’t quite sure. Suddenly, Kartik hugged him, burying his face into the junction between Aman’s neck and shoulder. Instinctively, he returned the embrace, hands rubbing soothing circles over his sweater clad back. At times like this, Kartik wasn’t very vocal and tended to seek comfort from touch. Aman shut his eyes and tried to do the same. They both needed it, a kind of fuel to see them through to the end. Pulling away slightly, Kartik cupped Aman’s face in his hands, leaning down to press a soft, chaste kiss on his lips. Aman’s hands shifted to rest on his boyfriend’s hips, smiling softly at the contact.

“We’re not going down without a fight, okay?” Kartik’s gaze was earnest, determined and Aman couldn’t help but draw him into a hug once more. The storm was getting closer and try as he might to match Kartik’s conviction, something just wasn’t right. He chose not to voice it though – no meaning in giving baseless fears a form, he supposed. Pulling away, Aman smiled in what he hoped was reassurance and confidence. Reaching out and taking Kartik’s hand, he gestured behind him. The sun had risen in the time they’d spent such that her rays illuminated the very path they were treading. Steadfast, they made their way back to Aman’s house.

They were halfway there when Kartik reached for his phone and unlocked it, for the first time since yesterday afternoon. He’d left it on silent, choosing to focus on Aman entirely and ignore the rest of the world for a short while. Clearly, the universe wasn’t ready to stop kicking his arse. Aman pulled up short, realising Kartik wasn’t beside him anymore. Puzzled, he turned around to see him stood there, a vice grip on his phone, knuckles pale and face paler. Kartik saw a flood of messages and missed calls from Devika, all leading up till around a few minutes and beginning at the time he’d been passed out in the guest room. All of them demanded that he ‘pick up the fucking phone, it was urgent’. This was highly unusual between them, this degree of persistence. He felt a strange sense of déjà vu come over him; it brought up emotions he hadn’t felt in a few years. Heart in his throat, hands trembling, he barely managed to click on her contact and bring the device to his ear. Concern increasing tenfold at this sudden change in Kartik – alarming, at that – Aman stepped closer, placing his hand in Kartik’s free one, trying to gauge what was happening.

Devika picked up on the first ring and what she said didn’t register in Kartik’s mind at first. When it did, the shock made his knees buckle and he crashed to the ground, bringing Aman to his knees beside him. He hardly reacted to whatever was being said, just nodding along. Eventually, Kartik managed a shaky ‘okay’ and cut the call, collapsing against Aman’s chest. His breathing was laboured and Aman began to panic. What was the matter? Gently, he coaxed a few words out of Kartik, his hand continually stroking up and down the quivering back. The reason that his boyfriend was on the verge of a panic attack was so much worse than he could have predicted.

It was Kartik’s sister – she was making her way here, to Allahabad, in search of him. Picking up Kartik’s phone, Aman read through the stream of messages as quick as he could. Ravi, Devika’s husband had been talking to one of his co workers about them, in casual capacity. That individual happened to be her fiancé, who was with them. Now, Devika hadn’t seen it necessary – or her place, for that matter – to disclose any details regarding Kartik’s past to Ravi. Hence, her husband had spoken uninhibited and now, it was chaos. Somehow, Devika had convinced her that they could travel together to visit Kartik and in doing so, had managed to control a rapidly worsening situation. Looking at the timings of the messages, he figured that they’d just reached the station. It’d take them 20 minutes, tops, to get there. Without thinking, Aman called Chaman chacha. Forgoing the greetings and intercepting questions about his whereabouts, he said only one thing.

“Get everyone else out of the house. I mean it and I don’t care ki aap kya kehke unhe bhejte ho. Hum dono aarahe hai, aur aap ke alawa, ghar pe koi nahi ho sakta. Mamla sach mein out of syllabus hai, chacha, pata nahi kya jawaab denge. Bas aap yeh kijiye, please.”  
His uncle truly understood the severity of the matter when it he’d used the quip ‘out of syllabus’. Unhesitatingly, he began to call out to the others, citing an outrageous emergency that required everyone else but him – and it worked, unsurprisingly. Murmuring a quiet ‘thank you’, Aman cut the call. He’d seen an inexplicable bond develop between Kartik and his beloved uncle. He’d never asked about what had transpired but he was tremendously grateful all the same. It meant a great deal to them both that an ‘elder’ was on their side. And here he was once again, siding with them without a second thought. 

Aman realised that they had to act fast. They were about 10 minutes away from home. They could get back, give Kartik a moment to compose himself – imperative – then face the music, a tarana. Aman recalled that night from 3 years ago and had understood the complexity of the dynamics of Kartik’s ‘family’. They’d discussed it very little over the course of their relationship and Aman could see why, now, Kartik was so taken a back and disoriented. He hadn’t expected her to just, appear, 25 years later. Taking a deep breath, he looked down at Kartik who’d lapsed into silence, his eyes wide, teeth worrying at his bottom lip. Gently, Aman cupped his face with one hand, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone. Pressing a soft kiss on his forehead, Aman cleared his throat, knowing he had to get them back to a safe space, quick.

In a haze, he got them back just as another message came in. Devika had arrived and was stalling for time, taking a long route around the neighbourhood. Aman had given her the address on a whim ages ago – he didn’t think it’d come in handy, especially not like this. Send her a silent thank you, Aman crouched in front of Kartik, taking both of his trembling hands into his own. Trying to keep the worry and fear out of his voice, he asked Kartik to meet his eyes. The sheen that covered them, the knitted brow, broke Aman’s heart. Taking a deep breath, he repeated the line he never expected to use again, ever.

“Kartik, love, we can send her away, not entertain her at all. You’re not under any pressure to do so. It’s your call, your choice.”

Kartik blinked slowly, as if trying to clear a fog from his mind. Shaking his head, his grip on Aman’s hand tightening. The veins stood up under the skin, rings on his right hand digging into Aman’s skin, though he couldn’t register the pain right now. His sole focus was on the brave man sat in front of him. That familiar steel like quality came into his gaze and he knew then and there why Kartik decided to go ahead.

“No. She is going to answer my questions, once and for all. It's on her that 25 years have passed like this, and she has to make up for each minute of it. I won’t sit quiet. Not now.” A weak smile tugged at his lips and Aman predicted the rubbish joke seconds before he made it.

“Ab toh kuch nahi kar sakte. Bas yeh samjho: Jab aaye baap ya beti, toh samjho durghatna ghati”. Even behind this joke, Aman could see the pain weighing him down. Nevertheless, his admiration and love for Kartik only grew. Kartik stood up as he heard the gate out front being opened – they were here. Keeping Aman’s hand in his, Kartik smiled as he saw Chaman chacha – he’d come to see him as his own uncle too – come to stand beside them. Finally, the door opened, Devika entering first, and behind her, another woman – Aakriti. Devika rushed forward to hug Kartik, her tousled hair flying out behind her. He returned the embrace with one arm, momentarily hiding his face, murmuring a quiet ‘its okay’. He never relinquished his hold on Aman – he simply couldn’t afford to. His boyfriend had become his anchor. Goodness knows what he would have done if he had to go through this alone – it was inconceivable. Devika stood off to the side, at the middle ground between the siblings.

Kartik felt his breath catch in his throat as he saw his sister for the first time in 25 fucking years. Aman held back a wince as his hand throbbed from Kartik’s vice grip. He felt the taller man go completely rigid before he took a deep breath to compose himself. Her glance flickered over their clasped hands, expression unreadable. He didn’t let her speak. In his books, nothing she could say now would ever right her wrongs. In fact, there wasn’t a thing to classify as right or wrong. The crux of this was that she’d done absolutely nothing. Zilch. She’d left him when he was just 5. After a while, it became easier to assume that she’d forgotten him entirely.  
“Aapko kya laga, aap aayegi, aise mere saamne aur 25 saal ka akelapan bhool jaunga main?”

Aman didn’t miss the fleeting, shocked glance that chachu and Devika sent his way. He wasn’t surprised though – this low tone was Kartik’s way of hiding his emotions. This wall was impenetrable. He was usually compassionate, and had it been any other pair of individuals, Aman knew his heart would have gone out to the recipient of such coldness. In this case though, it was warranted. He saw the sorrow and regret colour her features and she struggled to respond, clearly taken aback by the opening move.

“Kartik, main, I – I didn’t have a choice. Maasi –“

“Maasi? Like a mother? What a joke. She’s just an aunt to me. I don’t think any mother would leave a child behind with that monster of a man. She hated him, she knew what he did to Maa, to us. Yet, as soon as our house fell apart, she took you and ran, leaving me in the ‘shelter’ of that man. Yahan mere apne hai, mujhe aapko pura inventory bataane mein koi problem nahi hai inke saamne. Lekin ‘highlight’ hi kaafi hai. Bataun?” 

Already, Kartik was significantly taller than Aakriti but now, drawn up to his full height, trembling with rage, pain and all things negative, he was more imposing. He watched as she tried to compose herself. He didn’t understand how and why she was here. What were the chances that the Kartik Ravi had spoken of was him? Very slim. It was this damned ‘familial instinct’. First, his sorry excuse of a father, now and estranged sister – both hitting bullseye. She’d begun to speak and he’d caught a few words , ‘strict’, ‘scared’, ‘stopped me’. He didn’t buy a word and snapped.

“I was 5, when you left. You were 10. I know Maa was the one that held us together but clearly, I was a fool to believe that we had a bond, a ‘dhaaga’ between us, as siblings. You KNEW what he thought of me. He saw goodness as a weakness, something to erase. He rejected kindness, despising it completely. What you were around for was just the beginning. I managed, till I was 10. I held out hope that you’d try and contact me. You were 15 by then, surely you had the resources, some way? Still, I manged for another 5 years. Then everything went to hell.”

Kartik was trembling, from a mix of emotions coursing through his veins. Her name fit so well – Aakriti. She was the representation of all that he wished had never happened. His ruined childhood, a traumatic adolescence – both battles he’d fought, day in day out without her to help him. She was frozen, mouth half open, tears trailing down her cheeks.

“Kartik, please, believe me. I tried to find you. I know, I was at university then and I did take my chance. I think I came close at one point. But I couldn’t go on. I know, I was wrong but I thought you were okay, you’d be able to take care of yourself. You were old enough! I -”  
A sharp, scathing laugh cut her short. Kartik couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Old enough? That suggested he’d experienced some semblance of a childhood to grow up from. No, that was stolen from him, a treasure never returned to him. From his 15th birthday, after he was forced to become a dog to survive that beating, he’d lost any chance of staying a boy, a naïve teen even. No, he was forced to become an adult, and fast. Still keeping his left hand in Aman’s grasp, Kartik tilted his neck so the tattoo was visible to her. The confusion was clear on her face. He decided to sort that out.

“Look at where it’s placed, the triangle. That’s where he hit me, knocking me unconscious. The night before my 15th birthday. Why? Because he’d caught me with another boy. I’ve never been able to forget the fire, the hatred in his eyes, his words, his actions. Did you know you have his eyes? The same shape, same everything. Except his were like pieces of coal, either lifeless or burning with fury. Fury that was already directed at me. Do you know how that feels? The one person you’re expecting love from letting you down, over and over. The man taught me only one thing – what not to be. I reclaimed the triangle for myself, like so many of us. I survived, in that household. I pushed each day, trying not to lose hope. I had to believe that one day, I’d be able to escape from under his thumb. Blood, sweat and tears went into making it to university.”

Aakriti Singh stood there, tears creating tracks over her cheeks, eyes red, the palm over her mouth shaking. She hasn’t expected this, not at all. She knew their father wasn’t a good man, by any measure but she’d never thought he could be likened to the devil. What made her feel worse was that this probably wasn’t it. She wasn’t sure she could take any more. But she had to, it was the least she owed her little brother. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the ink on his body. The triangle was stark against his skin. The burn in her chest worsened as she envisioned a younger, petrified Kartik, those beautiful eyes filled with tears, wide in terror. The frightening stance of their father, looming over him. It was devastating.

“I got the triangle as soon as I could, in my second year at university. It’s not something I can forget. Now this one, Shiv and Shakti. I had to retain belief in something, that someone out there who had my back. I know if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be standing here today. This tattoo was painful as fuck. But it was worth it. No matter how much I wish I wasn’t, I’ll always have that blacksmith’s blood coursing through my veins. I know it isn’t true, not really, but surely, this much ink must be in my bloodstream, even just a little? And that’s why I did it, got it done this intricately. I guess it was some kind of prayer. My hopes were finally answered.”

Kartik beamed, the wide smile contrasting sharply with his tear-filled eyes. He let go of Aman’s hand, only to place his arm securely around the smaller man’s waist. Aman’s heart was close to bursting at the gesture. He knew of all this, but to see Kartik finally let the dam break, seeing him become unburdened with each word – it was phenomenal. Till today, the past was like a rock tied to his ankle, threatening to drown him, Aman admired his persistence, his will to stay afloat. The past few days had repeatedly try to push him under but still, the man refused to back down and stop fighting. He hoped desperately that their effort wouldn’t go to waste, that Kartik especially, wouldn’t be let down. A new light entered his eyes and Aman could feel the grip tighten slightly.

“I’m not done fighting. I’ve fought myself, fought our father and won. I’m still having to deal with the fuckery of this world on a daily basis. Aman too. But we’re in this together. I’ve had enough of the pain. I dealt with the blacksmith 3 years ago. You turned up on your own, saved me the trouble. Chalo, accha hua, ek aur toofaan chaukhat pe hi aagaya, issi waqt niptadiya. So thank you, Aakriti, truly.  
Ab main na khud ko takleef dunga, na kisi ko khud ko takleef dene dunga. Iss toofaan se mein khud ko nikaal lunga. Agar gira, toh khud hi khud ko sambhaal lunga. Lekin haarunga nahi. That’s my promise to you, to myself.”

Aakriti wasn’t a fool, she recognised rejection. She knew she’d wronged Kartik, over and over. Still, she hadn’t expected it to sting this much. Wiping away her tears, she reached into her bag, bringing out a folded, faded fragment of the past. Running a hand over it almost reverently, she smiled and stepped forward. Kartik’s eyes had widened, his eyes switching between her and their mother’s favourite shawl. Automatically, his arm rose, the glorious tattoo gleaming in the sunlight. She placed the cloth in his palm. The vibrant colours had become less so over the years but still, contrasted sharply against the dark ink on the skin of his forearm. It was the merging of two worlds – the past as present. Nodding slightly at the gesture, Kartik adjusted his hold on the shawl. It was over.

She turned away and had barely left the premises when Kartik finally let go, exhausted. He pulled Aman into a hug. Burying his face in his chest, body shaking. Aman knew the tears would only come when they were alone, but this was way too close for comfort. He held him as tight as he possibly could. Looking up, he froze. Kartik too, instinctively, looked up and it felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over them. Time came to a stop as apprehension swept over them both. The remainder of the Tripathis stood under the archway leading to the courtyard, their expressions impossible to read.


	2. Give Them Another Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Devika wants answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was unplanned, I confess. Yet, I was unsatisfied by my own cliffhanger so I guess this was coming?
> 
> This chapter is for Lavanya, happy birthday bro! I hope this chapter is to your expectations :)
> 
> Much love,  
> Dhyan x

Aman saw Kartik become impossibly smaller and hide his face, clearly embarrassed by his vulnerable state. He shifted slightly, hiding Kartik’s form from his family. He didn’t say a word as he clung to him, the grip impossible to move out of, not that Aman planned on doing so. He frowned as Kartik’s breathing became more erratic and as he began to mumble incessantly, the words barely decipherable. Nonetheless, he recognised what was coming and before a full blown panic attack could overtake him, Aman decided to act. Keeping his tone neutral so as not to further strain Kartik’s nerves, he instructed Devika to go collect the pride flag from his room, 3 doors down. Aman knew of nothing else in this moment, just that he had to draw his beacon of light away from the darkness that threatened to overwhelm him. Kartik had to be grounded and the familiar texture of the flag would help. His mother’s shawl, as of now, was bringing back with the love truckloads of pain and Kartik was spiralling as a result.

Moments later, she returned, the folded cloth held close. Aman met her gaze as she handed it to him and for a moment, didn’t understand why she looked so infuriated. It was only when he actually looked at the colourful shield that everything fell into place. His heart stopped at the sight. In broad daylight, it looked horrific, the bloodstains marring the pristine stripes. He watched as Kartik used one hand to clutch the flag, as he calmed down a little, leaning forward to rest his head on Aman’s shoulder. Reflexively, Aman’s fingers found themselves in his tousled hair, running through the strands. He felt the racing of Kartik’s heart slow down somewhat but he knew a few more moments were needed. Looking up, he was puzzled to see Devika in conversation with his uncle, the discomfort on the older man’s face making Aman more curious. He strained to hear what was being said and only caught what Devika said.

“Kartik will refuse to tell me outright. Or, he’ll try and sell me a lie. I want the damn truth.”

Chaman Tripathi shifted uncomfortably and Aman winced, knowing how disastrous this could be. Devika didn’t show it so often but she was extremely protective of Kartik and it was situations like this that was painful reminder of why her concern wasn’t misplaced. She was under the impression that they’d come here for Rajni’s wedding and she’d arrived to see.. this. He felt Kartik sit back up, a resigned look on his face. Evidently, he’d heard the conversation but it worried Aman to see him so exhausted. He saw his gaze shift to focus at something behind him and Aman held back a sigh. This was not an ideal situation, by far but it would have to do. He got to his feet and helped Kartik up too. He saw Devika come to stand on Kartik’s other side, looking like she was ready for battle.

Devika was beyond furious. The confrontation between estranged siblings had shaken her enough but these new revelations had her completely in shock. First, the pride flag and Aman’s uncle’s silence and that -. She shook herself, finally coming face to face with the rest of Aman’s family. She remembered his descriptions and connected the dots. By far the most concerned looking of the lot was a young woman and Devika knew who she was immediately: Rajni. Taking a deep breath, she tried to keep her voice from shaking and addressed them.

“What happened to Kartik? Chachaji won’t answer me and I demand one from on of you. TELL ME.”

Kartik tried to placate her half-heartedly, a soft ‘Devi, chod na’ falling on deaf ears. Aman squeezed his hand, trying to communicate his support and reassurance. An uncomfortable silence stretched between the groups, becoming almost unbearable until (unsurprisingly), an exasperated sigh from Rajni broke it. She surged forward, leaving his father visibly shocked.

“Yaar, aap log kab tak aise denial mein rahoge? Itni badi galti kar rakhi hai, maafi bhi nahi maang sakte? Aur in dono ko dekho bhi, they don’t expect this, the bare minimum from you! Dekh rahe hai aap Tauji, Taiji?”

Turning to Devika, she looked her straight in the eye and told her the truth, no embellishment. Aman kept his stare fixed on his father and saw him flinch slightly. Their eyes met and he thought he saw guilt in that unnerving gaze, if only for a split second. Turning back to focus on his cousin, he watched his two best friends stand in solidarity, in support of them. He glanced up at Kartik and the expression on his face made Aman tear up. His boyfriend, his soulmate still struggled with accepting the affection he so clearly deserved, and this degree of unequivocal support had taken him completely by surprise. Devika threw her arms up in the air, completely done with this outrageous charade.

“Secondly, what’s that sherwani doing on Aman’s bed? PLEASE don’t tell me you’re going through with a wedding? To a woman? I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, really.”

Aman decided to step in before either of his parents could respond ‘on his behalf’. As if reading his thoughts, Kartik squeezes his hand a little tighter. It helps tremendously and he feels power surge through him as he meets his parents’ eyes once more. He sees them start in surprise, clearly unprepared for the way this was playing out. Aman supposed that he should be thankful for Ravi’s blunder. He’d inadvertently turned everything on its head. Aman knew the ball was in his court now. He wouldn’t go ahead with this, not anymore.

“I’m not getting married to San – I mean, Kusum. That’s that. I can’t do this to myself, or to Kartik. I can’t ruin my life like this. Now, the three of us will be returning to Delhi, returning home and the rest of it is on you. It’ll be better for all of us if you accept this gracefully but honestly? I don’t know what to expect anymore.”

It was Sunaina Tripathi, his mother, who stepped forward. Much to Aman’s surprise, there were tears in her eyes. She hugged him and it took a moment for it to register in his frazzled mind and for him to reciprocate it. She held him tight and upon letting go, cupped his face, a tender and loving expression on her face. He heard Kartik’s breath hitch slightly and once again, a squeeze of his hand told Aman how nervous he was.

“I love you Aman, you too, Kartik. Jao, tum dono, jee lo apni zindagi.”

**Author's Note:**

> And that brings me to the end of my 3 part series. Do leave any comments you have below (and a kudos, if you like!)
> 
> With love,  
> Dhyan x


End file.
